


Pop Goes the Weasel

by MaddieMuse



Category: Deltarune (Video Game)
Genre: Body Horror, Dedarknerization?, Dehumanization, First chapter is a dream that turns out to not be a dream, Gen, I say horror but it's not really scary, I'm sorry the tense keeps changing but I am writing this for fun, Jevil being funny, Jevil is part jack in the box here, Jevil is part jack in the box in this fic, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, No Beta, Non-Graphic Violence, POV Third Person Limited, Posted and written after Chapter 1 of Deltarune before anything else comes out, Psychological, Psychological Horror, Psychological Trauma, Relevant Dream Sequences, Seam and Jevil are ambiguously a couple but that's really not the focus, Seam is worried for Jevil, Swearing, That moment when you realize you're a toy, Unless you're Jevil, cosmic horror, kind of, sanity slippage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28444164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddieMuse/pseuds/MaddieMuse
Summary: Jevil had a happy enough life as Royal Jester until one night he woke up in an unfamiliar form in the hands of an eldritch goat child. The little joker-in-a-box starts learning the truth of the world he lives in and himself. Toys, all of them. How much can he take before he snaps completely?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	1. End of a Dream...

His name is Jevil, and something cold is touching him. That’s the first thing he knows. It’s dark. His world is  _ always  _ dark, it’s literally the dark world, but this is a different kind of dark. Faintly, he can hear voices. 

“Oh, I don’t know if that one works anymore. Something got jammed in the gears a long time ago.” It was a lady, it sounded like. He tried to get up to see who this lady was and why she was in his house, but he couldn’t move. Everything felt stiff and odd-shaped. Which wasn’t entirely unusual for him – he’d had a crick in his neck for the longest time and his tail was seemingly stuck in place – but even more so than usual. Never before had he paid too much attention to his shape, who would? But he tried anyways. No legs, no arms, square maybe? No, cube. Why is he a cube? And why is the cube full of bits and pieces that he doesn’t even  _ want  _ to sort through. 

The cold thing picks him up, its hands are soft like a C. Round’s nose. He still can’t see, but can still feel his inside bits moving around as he’s tilted. Internally he screams, but he can’t move a muscle. He doesn’t even seem to have any! Slowly whatever this is gets closer. Something touches what he will tentatively call his ‘front’. It’s even colder.

There’s something in him. 

It creeps through whatever bits and pieces have replaced his insides. Plays with whatever  _ thing  _ he has become. The prodding tendrils slowly leech even the feeling of touch away and he wants so desperately to tell them to stop, to cry, to scream, to do  _ something.  _

But he can’t do anything. 

Something slides out of place, being tucked elsewhere. He’s dropped to the ground with a thud before something pushes him over. Is he facing up? Down? He doesn’t know. What’s up, what’s down? Where are his feet, or his head? Where’s his mouth, or legs? If his insides hadn’t been replaced with these unmoving, unfeeling things, they’d be whirring in sheer terror. The deathly stillness is somehow worse. 

The hand – he’s assuming it to be a hand, or maybe a paw (no, not a paw, this can’t be anything like Seam’s gentle touch) – goes to something sticking from his side. This, at least, is almost familiar in shape: his tail. He focuses as much as he can on that, he’s used to it being oddly rigid. It’s been stuck for about as long as he can remember. Which, now that he thinks about it (now that all he  _ can  _ do is think) isn’t that far back… How old is he? Was he ever a child? He doesn’t remember being a child. Or who his parents are or where he’s from or anything. So what is he? Jevil, the magician, partner of Seam. He’s Jevil, he’s alive, he  _ should  _ be alive, and he should  _ not  _ be this tiny box thing and  _ normally  _ he can move however much he wants. He  _ should  _ be able to see and talk and bounce around and do magic. He should  _ not  _ be some weird box with a handle and metallic, clinking insides. 

Something moves. 

Both outside and, even worse, inside  _ moves.  _ This being is manipulating his tail. Sound plays from somewhere? He can’t pinpoint the sound until he realizes it’s  _ him.  _ He’s making the noise and has no idea how, much less how to stop. 

Another mind brushes against his own, the thoughts just  _ wrong  _ enough for him to recognize that something else is planting thoughts into his head, putting words there, putting a tune and lyrics and  _ All around the mulberry bush, the monkey chased the weasel  _ and it’s not him and he can’t stop can’t get it out get it out GET IT  _ the monkey thought it was all in good fun  _ get out GET OUT GET OUT! THIS IS ALL HE HAS! YOU CAN’T TAKE THIS TOO!  _ Pop!  _

Brightness. His neck – long broken – springs out from something and he can see, even if he can’t blink. A beast of some sort, all white and lacking eyes. Strange horns and wisps of darkness slinking back into its mouth, a heart on its tail, fangs and nose and odd doubled ears. It grins down at his helpless form, maw more than big enough to snap his neck in one bite. 

_ Goes the weasel.  _

It shoves him back in, making some wheezing noise that  _ should  _ be laughter, but is so different from what he’s ever heard from kids and adults alike. Darkness. Winding. Music. Pop! Darkness. Winding. Music. Pop! Darkness. Winding. Music…

-

A hand touches his shoulder and he shoots up, “POP GOES THE WEASEL!” His head lolls from its spring and he flinches when it’s put back in. He can only stare, forgetting that he’s capable of more, as he takes stock of himself. Two legs, two feet, arms, a mouth, the ability to blink…

“Jevil? Are you alright?” The gentle voice of Seam asks. “It’s been some time since I’ve seen your head pop off like that. I thought it’d broken.”

Jevil laughs uneasily, “Hah… me too.” He slides off the bed, taking a deep breath – he’s breathing, he can breathe, he’s made of darkness and magic, not wood and plastic – and settling back into his form. His head feels ready to pop right off again, and even his tail feels too loose. “Just had a bad dream, dream! A real nightmare.” Trying to keep some of his trademark levity in things, he lets his head spring off again; at least his neck doesn’t feel so stiff anymore. “Must’ve sprung something loose, loose! Feels good, honestly.” Focus on the bright side. It wasn’t real. It was just a nightmare. Nightmares aren’t real, and he is definitely not a box, nor in a box. Okay, maybe  _ in  _ a box, if you count a castle as a box, but it’s hardly as cramped. 

“Alright. Anyways, come on. The young prince Lancer is waiting for you,” Seam said. He had his fans too, of course, but the kids seemed to prefer Jevil’s antics. 

“Okay, okay!” he chirps, trying to leave the feeling of gears behind…


	2. ... Beginning of a Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jevil gets toyed with by the being of his nightmare.

No bad dreams in the week or two since, so hey! That’s great, right? And his neck and tail have been thoroughly fixed. It’s been a blast learning all the stuff his tail can do, and when his neck’s extended, he’s finally taller than Seam! He hardly notices the occasional feeling of gears inside of him - or at least tries not to - or the strange sense that his skin is too shiny and fake - he’s hated mirrors lately.

The most recent performance for the kings went well! Well, well as it ever does. Jevil’s feats of magic don’t impress them much – he might have all kinds of tricks, but collectively they can do all the same and then some – so it usually comes down to the kind of witticism and fun-poking that Seam wouldn’t have the nerve for. Admittedly it helps that Jevil’s always tended to smile and laugh when scared out of his mind. Poor King Spade was the butt of things today, being grumpy as usual, but King Diamonds got his share of licks. The King of Clubs even joined in on making fun of themselves, and in the end, the King of Hearts finally decided to do something about the warring checkers. They were all over the board and no one could get out of or to the castle.

Yes, Jevil’s just about put it all behind him and gotten back to his typical japery – plus some extra springy antics – when he sees something that makes it come crashing down.

White fur, no eyes, strange horns, heart tail, doubled ears, fangs. It’s _them._

His insides suddenly feel too heavy, too stiff, too _mechanical._ He wills his feet to run, wills his eyes to look away, but he feels like he’s back to plastic and wood, back to stuck inside this tiny box with bits and pieces gumming his gears.

The beast approaches, hallway growing colder.

Jevil’s smile is frozen on his face, but the rest of him snaps back into motion, “Well there! Hello, hello!” He gives a flourished bow, but refuses to take his eyes off of this… this… _whatever_ it is. Not a human, almost certainly not a monster, but not like any Darkner he’s seen before. “What are you doing here?” What is it doing in this realm? In reality? Outside of probably the most disturbing nightmare he’s ever had?  
It doesn’t answer, just grabbing his tail with over-cold paws and tiny, dark claws and **_he can’t move._**

Gears inside of him turn as it winds his suddenly-stiffened tail. _Click, click, click._ The pressure grows tighter and tighter as something coils. It’s different, but similar. Horrifyingly similar. The tension gathers until Jevil’s sure he’s going to either be crushed from the inside or explode into so many pieces no one will ever put him together again.

Then it stops. His tail turns without his consent, unwinding in a way that _would_ be relieving if not for his body starting to move on his own, dancing and spinning and hopping about in some set routine that he never knew he had. He’s not sure if this is better or worse than the nightmare’s paralysis.

But it quickly tips into worse as he realizes _he’s singing._ He can’t stop his mouth no matter how hard he tries, can’t even get these pulleys and levers and whatever else to _stop_ long enough to clamp his hands over his mouth. The phantom song that haunts his nightmares comes from his own mouth with a literally forced grin, “All around the mulberry bush the monkey chased the weasel, the monkey thought it was all in good fun, Pop!” his head springs, dizzying, disorienting, “Goes the weasel!”

His body goes through the motions once, twice, three times more before the tension abates and he collapses, gasping for breath and trying to summon the strength to move freely again. The strange creature, at some point, had taken to sitting on the floor and smiling and clapping, clearly watching even without eyes to see. It feels like a mockery of his performances, of his lifeblood, his passion…

The second his strength comes back, he turns tail and runs.


	3. Frabic and Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seam's getting worried about his friend

Seam is worried. Jevil had gone to poke fun at the kings, something Jevil and _only_ Jevil could get away with. It was more magical than any of their shows that Jevil could openly mock the entirety of the royalty and not only go free and unscathed, but live in the palace and occasionally get them to actually do important things – relatedly, since the checkers incident was being dealt with, he had plans to go get more stock from outside the castle walls. So far as Seam could tell, that went well, the kings were laughing, the poor guards outside the door were trying _not_ to laugh for they rarely got the mercy Jevil garnered, and Clover had gotten a small show in the hallway.

Then Jevil came sprinting full pelt to their room with that terrified grin – eyes round as his buttons, ears back, teeth fully beard – and locked even Seam himself out of their shared room. Seam, for hardly the first time in his life and surely not the last, wondered why he had yet to get himself a key.

As such, he’s currently knocking on the door. “Jevil? Jevil, are you quite alright?”

The sound that comes back is an incomprehensible mess of gibberish coming between choked sobs and a whining sound.

“Can I come in?” Seam asks gently as he can. If it came to it, he wasn’t above trying to pick the lock with some summoned needles.

“No!” Jevil shouted. “No. No… I’m… I’m not decent!”

Seam’s eye rotated as he sighed, “Jevil, just put some clothes on…” It was a weak excuse and they both knew it. If Jevil was really doing alright, he’d probably strip himself to the underwear specifically to try to get a rise out of Seam. “Or have your horns gotten stuck again?”

“Yes, yes! Quite stuck, stuck!” Jevil says, voice edging on hysteria. “I’m afraid I cannot get the door until I unstick myself! So go along, along! I’ll get out myself!”

No. Not happening. Seam summons some needles, pressing the side of his head to the door – trying to ignore the sounds of pacing and heavy breathing coming from within – until he hears the clunk of the lock unlatching. The door slides open and he sees Jevil walking around the room, strained smile frozen on his face and hands in the hair under his hat.

Seam went over and hugged him, stroking his back. His paws caught on something curious (for he knew well how it felt to hold Jevil) and he looked down to see a ribbon. It looked like Jevil was trying to tie his head on. Tears splotched on Seam’s cloak, little whimpers coming from Jevil.

“What’s all this about?” Seam asks. He’s usually not one for violence, but he can make exceptions.

Jevil just shakes his head and yanks at his tail. “I don’t want this.”

“Your… your tail?” Seam says, brows knit together. “Why not?” He’s just gotten it working again and has clearly been having fun testing it out. Just yesterday he realized he could jam it in cracks between walls and hang upside down, a fact which everyone soon knew as well.

Jevil remains unusually quiet for a while except stifled sniffles and sobs. His ears droop and his smile falls as he looks teary-eyed at Seam, “Do I… do I look different? Different? Or better question, how do I look at all?”

“Same as ever, I’d say.” Seam says, kissing the top of his head, right under his hat. “Adorable.”

This didn’t get the smile it usually would from Jevil. Seam’s heart drops, worried. More serious, he looks Jevil up and down, “You’ve got a tail with a flat end, you’re purple with marks around your eyes, little horns and light brown hair under your hat, and big green eyes…”

Jevil nods slightly, but still has a far off look about him. He takes Seam’s head and pulls an ear to his chest. “What do I sound like?”

Worry worms deep into Seam’s chest. What had happened to his friend to make him like this? To make Jevil, taunter of kings, master of cards, pleaser of crowds, and overall fearless goofball look so small and scared? Nonetheless, he takes a deep breath and focuses, ears lightly twitching as he listens close as he can. But what he’s listening for he’s not sure. It’s just the same soft, rhythmic sound that always comes from Jevil: _click, click, click, click…_

“Like ticking, I suppose. Same as always.”

Jevil’s ears drop, eyes wide, but he forces on a smile through his tears, nestling up to Seam’s chest. Helpless, Seam can only offer comfort, locking the door and bringing them both to bed so they can cuddle until, hopefully, his partner feels better again. All the while, he’s trying to figure out what could’ve caused this in the back of his mind.


	4. A Game of Tag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jevil has questions and an old face returns.

It had taken a while to convince Seam he was fine. Because he was. He was fine, he had to be, right? He’s being stupid. So what if his insides don’t sound like Seam’s? So what if, now that he thinks about it, it sounds too much like gears? So what?

So long as he stays away from that eyeless abomination, he’ll be fine, fine!

But more than once he’s caught his reflection in a mirror or window and had to ask, why doesn’t he look like the other cards? He has their powers, all of their powers even! So isn’t he a card? Then why does his head bounce on a spring? _~~Why does he make music?~~_ The rest don’t do that. He’s gotten uncomfortably close to a few too many cards – especially the queen of Diamonds, even he’s surprised that the King of Diamonds let him keep his head after that – to not know that they don’t have any sound in their chests. Well, not unless you count the mouths in some of the higher Spades, but that’s more of the stomach region anyways.

Seam, at least, had something in common with some people. There were plenty of fuzzy folk if you look far enough, but he hadn’t seen another with a head like his. Nor with a tail. But Seam is the closest thing to Jevil, but Jevil looks nothing like him!

So what is he? Why is he so weird?

Is that why he’s being targeted? By whatever this thing is? Because he’s one of a kind? In the past he would’ve loved the sound of that, but he could do without, thanks.

Nonetheless, being foolish is his job and his life, so the fool he will be! If he trips a little more than usual or says something a little off, people just laugh! Because that’s what you do with a joke! And that’s all this is, right? Just one big joke at his expense!

His job, of course, would be easier if the being in his nightmares hadn’t taken residence in the castle. It seemed to hang around Rouxls and cause minor mischief. Maybe if things had gone different, they could’ve been friends, but as it is…

“KEEP THAT THING AWAY FROM ME!” Jevil screams, holding desperately to the middle of a tall stone pillar with his tail tucked to his stomach, hopefully out of reach of cold, grabbing paws.

“What? Thine childe? Foolish jester, they wouldst hardly hurthest a fly! Why art thou so terrified?”

“THAT THING ISN’T A CHILD ROUXLS!” Jevil screams back. He pops his head off just enough to look down, seeing if it’s still safely on the ground.

The abomination stuck one hoof into a chink in the stone, pulling itself up. Jevil’s ears twitch, alarmed, but surely it can’t get much further up? But it does. Alarmingly fast even. Its hooves sink easily into even the smallest of notches, letting it leap up with seeming abandon. Jevil barely has time to process what’s happening, it’s moving so fast, before little claws miss his legs by a breath.

He screams and hops off the wall, putting his head back on mid-sprint. “GET AWAY FROM ME!” It doesn’t.

Well, not willingly. He smacks headfirst into a wall before he looks back and realizes that Rouxls has got the strange goat-thing. “Heh. Thanks. Uh… owe ya one. Do me a favor now and _kill it._ ”

Rouxls narrows his eyes, “I shall not! Truly, ‘tis just a harmless childe!” He rolls his eyes then turns to the _thing._ “And you! Frisk, you musteth understand, thou must learneth personal space. Not all enjoy ‘close playtimes’ you see.”

The thing, “Frisk” apparently, patted at Rouxls’s head. Jevil didn’t stay around to see much else, not stopping until he’d ran right into a mirror. Overly-round, glassy green eyes stared lifelessly back at him. His ears twitched with every whir and tick inside of him, and he hoped to whatever deity was out there that he was only imagining the little tune of _All around the mulberry bush…_

_… Pop goes the weasel!_ There’s the sound of something shattering and a pain in his head. Hah. Broken mirror! A few years of bad luck then, but hey! Can’t get much worse.

“Hah. I’m really _cracking_ up, aren’t I? Aren’t I?” He says to no one in particular, trying not to cry as he pushes his head back in place.


	5. Causality Duality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Which causes which? Jevil doesn't know, but it can't be a coincidence... 
> 
> Another not-exactly-a-dream chapter

Jevil wakes up and wants more than anything to scream. He’s back. Tight gears, a wall of cubes, and something touching his not-tail. But he can’t, of course. No, why would it allow him that mercy this time? Why allow it ever?

_All around the mulberry bush…_

Why did this keep happening? Why just him?

_The monkey chased the weasel…_

Sure he can be a bit annoying, but what had he ever done to warrant _this?_ What had he done to warrant being stuck in, no, **_as_** some little box, only able to think and feel and just _trapped trapped trapped…_

_The monkey thought it was all in good fun…_

Why does this _thing_ keep haunting him?! What had he ever done to it? Why him? He was just a jester! Why not the kings, the queens, the checkers, the dust bunnies? Why him?! What did he ever do to it?

_Pop goes the weasel!_

His head pops up and once again the sudden light sears the glassy not-eyes of whatever he’s become. Everything swims as his head bobs, but it’s hard to miss the mass of white and dark that mark Frisk. Almost funny, what a simple sounding name for whatever this thing is.

His head stops bobbing and he internally braces himself to be unceremoniously shoved back into his little darkness and made to pop out again. One second, two seconds, three… He can see other kids. None of them darkners, so must be lightners! Mostly monsters, he thinks. Most knew there were a few kinds of lightners: humans, monsters, animals… Four, five, six… A familiar shade of dusty purple catches the corner of his eyes and he tries desperately to scream. _Seam! **Seam!**_ But nothing comes out. Seven, eight, nine… One of the monsters, one looking like a dust bunny, is playing with his friend. Jevil wishes he could be sick. Physically sick. It would at least be better than having to watch his best friend in some dumb child’s hands. Ten, eleven, twelve… His soul – or whatever kept his mind thinking and chest ticking – sunk as lizard kid came over, pulling hard on Seam. _No! No! **You’re going to break them!**_ He loses count of seconds, watching in horror as the two struggle. Sharp teeth sink into the little toy, the bunny’s crying, running. He can’t stop it. More than anything he wants to spring over, to save his partner, to scream to yell to tell Seam to _wake up! **Wake up!**_ But he can’t. He can only watch, only half-aware he’s still being held.

The lizard boy gets away, but he sees it fall off. One button eye caught in the bunny’s fur and Jevil's soul dropped. _No, please. **They need that!** Put it back! Put it back! _The bunny turned, running, button snagged. _Wait! Stop! Stop **moving!** You're going to hurt them! _With a small tug, presumably not even noticing what they'd done as the bunny ran for the teacher, the little threads unraveled, button falling quietly to the floor, noticed by no one but the muted jester. The lizard child laughed, looking down at Seam's limp form, teeth showing. Jevil couldn't look away, both physically and metaphorically. Would that _brat_ maim Seam? Tear his other stitches out? Did they even know what they were doing? Those teeth, those claws... 

A cold hand touches the top of Jevil's head, pushing him back. _NO! NO! STOP! HELP THEM! SAVE THEM! **STOP!**_

The world goes dark, sound muffled, **_everything_** muffled. Jevil could only sit there, trapped, alone, and try to keep count of the seconds if only for something to do. 

-

He’s not sure when he goes from one dream to another. Everything feels disconnected, distant, so so unimportant. The moment keeps playing in his head, somehow only growing in detail. A rabbit holding the helpless form of his equally trapped friend. A lizard tugging on him, growling, hissing, spitting. Claiming it as his before finally lashing out. A button catches on the rabbit as she runs, crying. In vivid detail he can remember the fur and seams, the way the fabric was torn off, the stitches undone… And then it was gone. He was gone. Darkness. And repeat. A rabbit, a lizard, tearing fabric and bits left behind. A rabbit a lizard and fabric and buttons a rabbit a lizard fabric buttons rabbit lizard fabric buttons-

At some point Seam grumbles noise, rolling over half-asleep and Jevil realizes he’s no longer a box. It takes him longer still to remember that he can move again. Jevil pushes himself up slowly, teeth bared in a terrified grin, and creeps out of the room. Let Seam sleep. Let them rest. Hopefully rest. Please, stay asleep. Please don’t dream. Don’t pull Seam into this too. It’s not worth it. They don't deserve something like that. _Please just be sleeping normally..._

~~~

The next morning when Jevil sees Seam, they've misplaced their left eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My chapter lengths vary wildly, but I tend to make these in a fit of madness worthy of Jevil and upload whenever it crosses my mind. 
> 
> Comments are always appreciated too! Hope you all enjoy this descent into madness! ^u^ (I don't bite, I promise)


	6. Descent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seam is getting worried about his friend, and perhaps for good reason. 
> 
> A little bit of lightheartedness coming your way, courtesy of our cat friend! But don't worry, it won't last. >:D

Seam is worried, yet again. They’ve been in an almost constant state of worry and it’s starting to wear down on them. But today they’re worried even more than normal. Jevil’d been acting odd all morning, according to those in the castle. His jokes had been flat, his grin had been forced, but what people noticed most was the lack of energy.

Seam, unfortunately, had no way of confirming these rumors because the second Jevil saw them the little imp’s eyes went straight to their left eye, or rather, where that particular button used to be, and he just went blank, stumbling off to who knows where without a word. Unfortunately, the little thing was faster than them even when clearly out of it and Seam lost track of him.

What could have upset him so much? Sure, a lost eye could be rather traumatic for some, but that left button of theirs had been a little loose since a spat with the Black Knight. It seemed that yet again it had slipped off in their sleep, lost somewhere in the mounds of blankets. Honestly they had half suspected that Jevil himself had slipped it off as a joke – Jevil had fixed it himself a few times, and Seam had _hoped_ that he was used to the idea by now – when they couldn’t find it in the bed that morning, but apparently not.

So Seam finds themselves going to their room, looking for the little joker, but to their surprise, it’s unlocked. Almost a shame, they finally made an extra key. But there’s no sign of Jevil inside, his belongings not withstanding. Where else could he have gone? Normally Seam would just follow the trail of mischief or listen for the sound of laughter, but the castle is quiet today.

That said, Jevil can’t have gone too far, not without getting mixed up in the checkers’ fight. And their friend might be the royal fool, but he isn’t _that_ foolish. At least Seam hopes not.

Well then, seems they’re doing this the hard way. But then, they can do anything, so how hard could it be?

Seam summons a ball of yarn and looks for a scrap of cloth from Jevil. Given that this is literally Jevil’s room, it’s easy enough to find something of his. “Alright then,” Seam mutters to themselves, stuffing the bit of fabric into a yarn ball; it should be able to find him now. All they have to do is follow the yarn. Seam's tail curls and lashes in anticipation, one good button eye focused entirely on the yarn ball with a grin on their face and a purr in their chest. “If Jevil wants to play, so be it.” They say, then throw it down the hall and start prancing after it on all fours.

Oh they’d always loved this trick, even if they were often too embarrassed to admit it. They hoped their desire not to be seen was enough to keep their magic yarn ball from crossing too many’s paths as they chased and batted it down the halls, tail flicking as though they were still just a kitten. No matter which way they batted it, it never doubled on itself, and there was always a string leading them back where they’d been (not that they’d need it this time, but it had happened before). Seam choked down the impulse to kick at it with their feet or catch it in their claws, but couldn't keep down the giddiness of a good game of yarn. Oh when Jevil had found this game of theirs the first time, well, they’d like to say it was embarrassing or awful, but it was the most fun they’d had in a long while. Somehow they’d never gotten caught by the rest of the castle no matter how wild or far they roamed; Seam suspected Jevil planned it that way, no matter how much he'd teased the threat of getting caught. 

When they get to the elevator though, Seam tries to maintain some dignity, picking it up with their hand instead of their mouth and fluffing out the ruffles of their magician’s cloak. Hopefully no one will come with them, but it _is_ an elevator. Elevators tend to get traffic in the castle, especially since a good chunk of the cards lacked proper feet and had trouble with stairs.

Seam looks at the buttons, trying to figure out level would most likely have their friend. Maybe the top? They can imagine him springing about on the roof, maybe tormenting Rouxls in his shop, or playing with little Lancer. Or perhaps he’s doing coin tricks for the Rudinn again. Of course, he always like “giving his heart” to Hathy for a chuckle, or maybe he’s somewhere spectating the checkers?

Oh why even bother with all this? Seam covers their one good eye and throws the yarn ball full pelt at the buttons, letting it hit what it will. When they look, they see it’s the basement. How odd… Not many go down there. The only room is right below where the Dark Fountain comes from. Most don't come so close to it, they say it can give strange visions that only the most powerful Darkners can handle. As such, most of the room is locked away. 

Seam waits in the elevator and idly claws their yarn ball until the doors come open. There’s only one way to go, they don’t need their yarn anymore, so they use magic to draw it back, winding up the magic threads and stuffing it away for later. 

Jevil sits in front of the locked door, watching as something spins within, powered by the Dark Fountain.

Sean walks over, standing by Jevil's left side, keeping his eye towards the other; it's not that he distrusts Jevil, but he doesn't want to scare him again with the reopened hole. “Are you alright?” 

“Did you find your eye?” Jevil asks.

“I’m more worried about you right now,” Seam says, putting a paw on Jevil’s shoulder.

The little clown leans against him, Seam can feel the gentle whir of his chest. It’s a familiar sound, soft and constant. Some might find it creepy, but it’s one of Seam’s favorite noises. Usually they only get to hear it in their sleep though; Jevil rarely both stood still and stayed quiet while awake.

“I saw them rip it off. Some lizard, or some bunny, both kinda. Didn’t mean to, but, but…” his little hands ground into the stone, tail sweeping in front of him. “Ya ain’t a toy.”

Where did this come from? “Of course not.”

“And I ain’t a toy?” Jevil says, staring at his own hands.

“Why would you be?”

Jevil didn’t look convinced. It’s odd seeing the little jester without his grin. Seam didn’t care too much for it. 

“What’s all this about anyways?” Seam asks. “Did you have another nightmare?”

“That easy to read, aren’t I? Ah, who cares. I’m just a joke anyways. It’s all just a big joke, just a big game, game!” A manic grin split his face for a moment too long before he went back to just looking tired. “And I don’t wanna play anymore.”

Seam’s soul drops, dread coiling up inside of them. “You’re allowed to have off days you know… Do you want to just come back to our room and cuddle? Maybe throw some yarn? Who knows, maybe I’ll get caught this time.”

Jevil sighs. “Ya don’t get it. That’s probably for the best. Glad _you_ slept well at least.”

“What do you mea-”

“Where do ya think this fountain goes anyways? I mean, it gives us shape or whatever, but where does it _go?_ To some light fountain? A light world? What happens if we go up there? I mean, I’ve heard lightners can come down here and be alright, so why not us?”

“Well, they’re made of something more physical, we’d come apart in the light-”

“Would we? Or could it be that we can’t go up there ‘cause we already _are?_ ” Jevil says, grinning. He pushes himself up, standing on his tail and looking into the locked room. Watching it spin, watching the darkness leak down. “You didn’t lose that eye for no reason, you know. Funny… what else do they control?”

“Jevil? You’re not making sense." 

“Oh ain’t I? Or does it just hurt? ‘cause I get that. But hey, we’re here, we’re toys, so why not play, play?” His smile grows larger, showing off his many fangs, but there’s no joy to it.. Jevil giggles manically, hopping off of his tail and doing a backflip, head popping off when he lands. “It’s all a game, game! We’re just toys, playing their game! Don’t you see it?” His head popped around behind Seam as Jevil towered over them on his tail. “So what’s it matter? We can’t die, die! Or can’t live? It’s hardly in our hands if we break or not! So why, why? Why not try?”

Jevil vaults himself right over Seam and bounces up the stairs before Seam can get another word out. The elevator dings and Jevil cackles as he darts in, leaving Seam in the dark with nothing but a feeling of deep horror and the echoes of Jevil’s words bouncing around their head.


End file.
